


Thirty Seven

by leighlou247



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Robbery, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6927292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighlou247/pseuds/leighlou247
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a normal workday when all things go downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was just an average day at the precinct. Doing paperwork, filling out reports. Hanson was in the break room, about to grab a coffee and some doughnuts for himself and Jo when suddenly Jo ran in with an alarmed expression on her face. “Hanson, we got a robbery on 45th and Parker."

 Hanson mumbled a curse word. His wife said she was running by that bank that day. “Forget the coffee. Let's go,” Hanson said, a new resolve in his voice.

On the way to the bank where the robbery was taking place, Hanson tried to call his wife, to no accord. When Jo stopped the car at the bank, Hanson got out, his vest already on, and walked up to the head officer.

“Are there hostages?” Hanson asked, trying to hide the urgency in his tone.

“Thirty-seven,” the cop said. “We haven't gotten in contact with the leader to negotiate; there’s ten hostiles in there.”

Hanson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Armed?” He asked. The cop nodded.

He thought about his family. Once more, he tried to call his wife, and this time it answered. His spirits lifted, but a man spoke. “Who are you?"

“Detective Mike Hanson, the wife of the woman who you took that phone from.”

“You a cop?” He asked.

“No, I'm the delivery boy,” Hanson said sarcastically. “Yes, I'm a cop.”

 “Let me guess: you want to negotiate?”

 “All of us want to negotiate.”

 “Well, I want all the money in this bank, Detective Hanson, and screw you, asshole.” The line went dead.

 “I just talked to him!” Hanson shouted. “My wife and child are in there!”

 As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he was surrounded by people of all occupations, flooding him with shouting voices, all trying to stand above the others.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have forgotten his wife's name or what his kid(s) are, but I knew he was a husband and a father of some sort, so I gave him a daughter.

Hanson leaned on the hood of his car, finally getting a little peace from all the commotion after what seemed like forever. Jo came up to him holding a cup of black coffee. “Long day?” She asked, knowing the answer.

“You bet,” he replied. “It's almost sunset, we’re usually at home eating supper right now, but no, there has to be an eighty thousand hour hostage-” he started to complain before he was interrupted by a gunshot. “Thirty-six,” he said absently, pulling out his phone and calling his wife. Of course, the main guy answered.

“Don't get your panties in a wad. It wasn't your wife or your kid.”

“I don't care, you murdered somebody.” Hanson turned to a cop that was trying to get his attention, and after the cop mouthed the message, Hanson nodded, almost in shock.

“National Guard is here, and they said they will come in and open fire if you don't surrender yourself within the next hour.”

“Tell National Guard to kiss my ass. Besides, they’ve got other things to worry about anyways.”  
Hanson noticed some officers turning to their walkie-talkies.

“There’s another hostage situation at the First bank on 110th and Roosevelt. Alright, there are already some officers there, so we need about a quarter of you to go handle that.”

 _No way_ , Hanson thought. _I got a family to take care of._

He turned to Jo. “I'm staying. Are you?” She nodded. “Good, because if you were planning on leaving, I would have made you stay.”

“I know,” she simply said.

“Hanson! Call him again!” Someone ordered.

He sighed, getting out his phone and calling his wife’s number.

“Mike!” He heard his wife cry into the phone.

“Oh my god, Jess, are you alright? What about Felicity?”

“We’re alive, but he said that he’s saving us for last. And if the cops storm in, he’s killing all of us, and the cops.”

“Hang in there, Jess. Let me talk to him. I love you so much.”

“You too, Mike.” There was a bit of movement on the other end of the call, and the man’s voice that Hanson had grown accustomed to spoke once again.

“How sweet. That's actually really cute. Yuck.”

“What do you need all this money for anyways?” Hanson asked.

“I need to pay my rent. I want to have a Maserati. I wanna go see the Leaning Tower of Pisa. A guy can dream.”

“Well you're going to have to dream in jail, because that's the only place you're going.”

Another gunshot rang out.

“Thirty-five.” Bang. “Thirty-four.” Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. “Thirty. I'm going to keep counting down until I reach two, then I’ll torture your two.”

Hanson was too shocked to reply.

Bang. “Twenty-nine. Every five minutes, one more dies.” There was a kid crying in the background. “Hurry if you want them to live.”

Of course, right when Hanson was about to reply, he hung up. Hanson kicked his tire in frustration.

"We need to get in there, now. He's going to kill someone every five minutes,” he complained to the head officer.

“We’re getting snipers up on the opposite building, then we’ll go.”

Hanson grabbed the cop’s tie, pulling him close. “My wife and daughter are in there, sir. Your snipers better go as fast as they can.” Jo pulled him back, and Hanson let go of the man’s tie.

The cop nodded, turning to his walkie-talkie.  
“Snipers, make it quick, we got people to save.”

Bang. 

 "Twenty-eight,” Hanson said. “Jo, before we know it, that's going to be zero, and not only my family, but thirty-five more people will be dead. I can't have that on my conscience.”

Jo turned to face him, her expression concerned. “Mike, so will we, but you can't give up now.”

Hanson nodded. “All we can do right now is hope.”


	3. Chapter 3

A few minutes later, three more people had been shot. Hanson was so nervous, he was sweating bullets.

“Snipers on the roof,” he heard a walkie talkie say.

 “Let's get going, then,” Hanson replied through his.

 “We can all get three, but you are responsible for the last one, we don't have eyes on him,” the walkie-talkie said.

“Copy that, 10-4.”

 Hanson did the math in his head: there were three snipers and three people they could shoot. Say two of each group were able to shoot one more person before they got shot, including the tenth person, that would be six more people dead, with nineteen left to go. Nineteen is better than none. Hanson put on his vest and a helmet, making sure his gun was fully loaded before joining the rest of the squad.

 “On my mark,” the head officer said. It felt like hours that went past before the officer said, “Go.”

 In that instance, noise went off everywhere, and so much happened that Hanson could barely recall what all happened, but afterwards, there was complete silence.

 “Daddy…?” Hanson heard a familiar little girl’s voice call. Hanson ripped off the helmet on his head and turned to see her knelt down by a body. Hanson ran over, seeing his wife with blood everywhere.

 “Jess?” He whispered, his hand resting on her cheek.

 “Mike...wake...up…” She said in between coughing up blood.

 “What?” He asked, confused.

 “Daddy, she said wake up!” Felicity said, smiling and slapping him on the back of the head.

* * *

 Hanson woke up with a start. It took him a while to process what was going on. He looked up and saw Jo with a mixed look of concern and humor.

 “You okay? Why were you counting down from 37?” She asked, handing him a coffee cup.

 “Crazy dream…” He trailed off, not sure where to start.


End file.
